Monday morning Claire sat with Indio and Skylar in the hacienda kitchen, sipping coffee. Plates and the remains of breakfast littered the table. Nobody moved to clear it.
Skylar said, “Well, thanks for the last meal, ladies.”
Indio smacked her forearm with a teaspoon. “Enough with the gallows humor. You’re just going away for a little while.”
“You have God’s word on that?”
“Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. He told me the moment you said ‘last meal.’ Receive it, child.” Skylar smiled. “Okay.”
Claire sniffed and smashed a napkin to her face. Jenna and Danny were on their way to Germany to be with Kevin. Rosie was due any minute now to pick up Skylar. Their police friend had somehow convinced the FBI that she would escort Skylar to the airport for them.
Too much letting go all at once.
They sat in silence. The clock ticked and tocked. It was a sunny day.
Lexi and Tuyen had already said their good-byes to Skylar earlier in the morning before they left for work. Now, Ben and Max waited outside for Rosie.
All too soon they ushered in Rosie. Erik, surprisingly, followed. Lately his consulting work with a production company had kept him busy.
They said their good-byes in the kitchen. One by one hugs were exchanged. Indio prayed softly as she hugged Skylar. Claire waited to embrace her last.
“We will visit you, Skylar,” she whispered into her hair. “I promise you that. You are like a daughter to me. I love you very much.”
Skylar nodded.
And then she was gone.
No one moved or said anything.
Erik broke the silence. “Did you notice, no handcuffs? Rosie said she wouldn’t put them on until she has to at the airport.”
Claire’s stomach turned, grateful that Rosie said it would be best if they parted at the house. It would have humiliated Skylar further to do so in public.
She said, “Your Rosie takes good care of us.”
“Yes, she does. Speaking of Rosie, my video camera is in the car.” He waggled his brows at Claire, Max, Indio, and Ben. “Ta-da! It’s interview time. I figured you’d all need a diversion right about now.”
Ben harrumphed and strode toward the door. “I got horses to tend to. Just lost my best helper.”
“I’ll catch you out there, Papa.”
Max followed his father. “I’ll be somewhere.”
“Chicken.”
Indio moved toward the couch. “I really need a nap. Later, maybe.”
“Night-night.” Erik turned to Claire. “Mom. Puh-lease don’t run out on me.”
“What is this project all about?”
“I told you I’d teased Rosie, not long after we met, about turning her life into a movie. Well, I got started with Nathan’s help. At first it was a documentary about this amazing policewoman, but then it turned into something else. Which is still a secret from her and everyone. Are you game?”
Claire looked around the kitchen and sighed, already missing Skylar. “Sure.”
“Meet me in the sala in three.” He rushed out the door.
This is my mother, Claire Beaumont.” Seated on the couch beside her, Erik spoke toward the video camera he’d set up on a tripod. He used his so-called professional voice, which wasn’t much different from his everyday one, perhaps a touch smoother. He always did have an ease with speech and sounds that inspired others to listen.
“Erik, you really are gifted in front of a camera.”
“Mom.” He moved his head in a circle. “Later.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“No worries. I’ll edit this stuff out.” He sat unblinking, statue still. When he spoke again, he was back in character. “Claire and my father raised four children and now, in their latter years, have taken over my grandparents’ Hacienda Hideaway, a retreat center near Santa Reina, California. They—”
“Latter years?’ I can’t even see sixty on the horizon.”
He blinked. “When do latter years begin?”
“I don’t know. Not yet, though. Do they?”
“I’d say postfifty, fifty-five.”
“That’s because you’re hardly postthirty. Just you wait. Fifty is young. Fifty-five is prime time, nowhere near the downward side of life.”
He blinked again. “Tell you what, Mom. I’ll record this intro part later. Let me move over here.” He went to a chair beside the camera. “And you just talk to me. Tell me about the first time you met Rosie Delgado.”
“Should I look at that red light on the camera?”
“Whatever you’re most comfortable with. Me, the camera, the ceiling.”
“I’d look pretty silly talking to the ceiling.”
His composed, handsome face revealed nothing. The growl revealed a lot.
“Erik, maybe now is not a good time. I’m a little on edge. As a matter of fact, I think I may now understand how you felt that night you went on the air after drinking because you were upset over Felicia. You had to go on. You had a job to do. You did some stupid things, but sometimes life can push us so hard we behave irrationally.
“Like the second time I met Rosie. You were in the hospital because of what she had done to you and there I was, sitting at her father’s restaurant, waiting to meet her. I was curious what kind of woman could do a thing like that. Lexi had told me she was special, though, in a good way. But naturally I harbored some ill will toward her. I mean, after all, she did shoot you.
“Then she walked up. She didn’t look anything like a cop in her flouncy blouse and skirt. And, oh! Her expression was pure anguish. The first thing she said was how sorry she was. Her only concern was for your well-being. What could I do but hug her? Now I love her like a daughter.”
She paused, overcome with a sense of motherhood. It was a dance of complex steps, but there was a rhythm to it, a consistent beat. It must have begun with her first pregnancy: Hold them close, let them go. Hold them close, let them go. Shelter them in the womb, present them to the world.
Now others had joined in the dance. Claire stubbed her toe time and again following the unfamiliar steps. Is Kevin the right one for Jenna? Rosie’s world can never mesh with Erik’s. Nathan better not hurt Lexi. Skylar can’t possibly be Danny’s match.
But her mama’s heart stretched and they all fit into place. Her feet learned the new pattern.
She said, “I love Skylar like a daughter too. I love Kevin like a son. Nathan is taking up residence in my heart right next to him. With my own four in there, it’s getting to be a crowded place. My prayers grow longer. Every single day I have to let each and every one of you go. ‘Lord, they’re Yours.’ This letting-go business is harder than I ever imagined. Good grief, if I had grandkids, I’d never get off my knees.”
The room came back into focus. She didn’t know what she’d been facing as she talked but now she searched Erik’s eyes. “But this video is about Rosie. Well, all I have to say is, Erik, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. If you don’t marry her, that would be really dumb.” She exhaled. “Now, if I may be excused, I’m going to take a long, hot bath and a longer nap. Was that MIT?”
“MIT?”
“You know, too much information?”
He gave her a slow smile. “No. Not TMI at all, Mom.” He pushed a button on the camera. “And that’s a wrap.”
Claire only hoped the day was a wrap.
And it wasn’t even noon.